


Ghosting

by imperfectkreis



Series: Witches and Warriors [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Deception, F/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectkreis/pseuds/imperfectkreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This epilogue is for Gap Year/Inconsistent Results. I've finally admitted to myself this isn't a story I can finish. Taking place five years after the end of F:NV, Courier Callie comes back to the Strip. She basically does so just to fuck up people's lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosting

“Ms. Cassidy!” Yes Man’s voice came on over the Lucky 38’s intercom. Over the years, Cass had become accustomed to his butting into her affairs whenever he deemed necessary. She wasn’t too bothered by it, it was kind of like having a personal assistant. He kept track of her affairs around the Strip much better than she could handle on her own. Meetings with the NCR, dignitaries from the slowly-rebuilding East, irate hotel and casino proprietors, everyone was in her hair. She should have handed the Strip over to the NCR when she had the chance, but now it seemed too late to manage. 

Besides, she and Nessie were safe here, protected by status and Securitrons. Status meant plenty of people wanted her dead, too, but so far things had worked out. And Nessie, sweet Nessie was happy and healthy and growing so fast. In the last year she had started reading and Cass suspected she was one sharp cookie, even if her dad was a dumbass.

“What’s happening?” 

Yes Man no longer had a physical body, his Securitron unit returned to the general pool, he existed inside the Lucky 38. It was pretty unnerving, but Cass had to trust the thing. He had been the one to secure their position at the Dam and make sure the NCR could wrestle control from the Legion. Weird ass robot he may have been, but he had never steered Cass wrong. 

“Callie Gecko has entered the Lucky 38.”

Bullshit. Fucking bullshit.

“Come again? You did not just say what I thought you did.”

“I’d know my re-programmer anywhere, Ms. Cassidy. She’s here.”

Callie had walked straight out of her life, out of everyone’s lives, after the second battle of Hoover Dam. Took one good look at Benny’s corpse, cut to ribbons by Legate Lanius, and she had turned right on her heels and marched out. Only a couple of statements about Cass and Swank figuring out what to do with the Strip, because she sure as fuck didn’t give a damn. She had never cared about it. Her allegiance had been to Benny, not to New Vegas. 

Before heading downstairs, Cass checked in on Nessie, she was sitting at a computer terminal in the Presidential Suite, looking plenty entertained. Kid didn’t even bother to look up at her mom. It was okay though. 

Cass rode the elevator down, not knowing what to expect. Cal had always been the unpredictable type, at least as long as she had known her. Sometimes she seemed quiet, even sweet. She appeared particularly sweet, even bashful when talking to or about Benny. The next minute she was cutting open raiders and ashing Legionnaires with unbelievable accuracy. When they first met, Cass was in awe of the younger woman and her brutal skills.

And here she was in the flesh, sitting at one of the Lucky 38’s unused bars, pouring herself a glass of vodka like nothing at all had happened. Like the last five years hadn’t passed and she was still the goddamn Angel of the Wastes that she always denied being. Everyone who knew her, actually knew her, knew she wasn’t good or kind, but she was resourceful, special, and a little ruthless. Sometimes that was all it took.

“Cal, where the fuck have you been.” Cass was ready to straight up knock some sense in the girl. Well, she was more of a woman now. Though she was still tall, well-built, and hauntingly quiet. It took a long time for her to speak.

“Around.” She stared down her vodka like it was trying to get away from her. Absentmindedly, she spun her wedding ring around her finger in rhythmic patterns. 

“Why are you here?” Cass’s shoulders dropped. This woman had once been her enemy and had once been her friend. Sometimes she had managed to be both at the same time.

Callie finished her drink. “Lonely, I guess.”

She stood up and faced Cass, standing several inches taller. Callie had always been about the tallest woman Cass had ever seen. That wasn’t saying a whole lot, but it was something. There was still a laser pistol at her hip and she wore her jeans low. She always had trouble finding clothes that fit her well. All that superior Vaultie nutrition.

“Well, come on up, I guess.” Talking with Callie was a delicate thing. She liked some topics and was violently opposed to others. More than anything she seemed to like people talking where she didn’t have to respond back. Also, when something was wrong, you were supposed to act like nothing was wrong. There should've been a handbook, "how to make friends with and talk to the Courier."

The two women got into the elevator together. Looking up, Cass hoped to catch Callie’s eyes. Cass wasn’t a doctor, so she wasn’t great at assessing people’s health, but when she was high, Callie always had this sort of glassy look, even if everything else appeared normal. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the elevator.

They made it to the suite and Cass called for her daughter. “Nessie, we have company, get over here.”

The little girl ran out of her room with exuberance only possible in childhood. They didn’t get many visitors, and Nessie didn’t really have friends her own age either. Sometimes, when her father took her for the day, she would play with a couple of other Strip children. There just weren’t that many. Most moved away when they thought to start families.

“Nessie, say hello to Callie. She’s your aunt.”

Callie recoiled a bit. Even as the words left her lips, Cass knew that would take Callie back. Familial ties weren’t high on Cal’s list of desires, but the aunt thing was kind of true. Then again, maybe she should have held back some of the shock value. Could have used it later.

“Callie, this is Nessie, my daughter.”

“Hey,” Callie put out her hand as if to shake Nessie’s. That seemed right, Callie interacting with a five-year-old like she was a full grown adult.

“Ma told me about you. You killed the Legion and saved everyone.”

“Something like that.” Yeah, that was way too personal for a first meeting, even if Nessie was just a kid.

“Yes Man missed you. He told me so.”

“It,” Callie corrected. She was always trying to get people to quit using “he” or “she” with robots. “Yes Man is an it.”

“Yes Man, is that true?” Nessie looked up at the ceiling like she was expecting to see Yes Man there, like he was a god or something. Those boys believed in God, the both of them.

“Yeppers.”

“Sorry Yes Man!” Nessie apologized.

Cass was ready to send her girl away, she wanted to persuade Callie to talk about more personal matters, like where the fuck she had been for five years, but Nessie was making the Courier guarded. “You can go back to your games now, Nessie.”

Just as fast as she had run into the room, Nessie scampered back out, leaving Callie and Cass alone.

“You have a kid.” Callie’s eyes were trained on the empty doorway Nessie had run through.

Cass started towards the kitchen and Callie followed. “Yeah, she’s great, real great, smarter than either of her parents.”

There wasn’t any vodka in the suite, so Cass poured two whiskeys, even though Callie would be unlikely to touch hers. 

“Whose is she?” Always judgemental, that Cal. Cass knew that Callie never approved of her sleeping around when they were working together. Really, it was because the Courier had a soft spot for Swank, always thinking that he deserved better than Cass. Bullshit on that one.

“I said she was your niece, didn’t I? She’s Swank’s.” They were going to need a whole bottle of whiskey tonight. 

From the daggers Callie was glaring, seemed like she still had that soft-spot all right. “Are you sure?”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m positive.”

“Between the time we met and the time I left, you slept with at least three different guys. I caught you in bed with two of them.” Well, that was more in one breath than she had spoken all together since showing up at the Lucky 38.

“Yeah, but by the time I fucked Craig I already knew I was knocked up. There was never any doubt.” 

Callie’s eyes got wide, those big pools of blackness surrounded by white. Those eyes were always unreadable. They were glassy when high and empty otherwise. Hard to distinguish the pupil from the iris. “I was supposed to kill you on the trip to Novac. You were already pregnant then.”

“WHAT.” This was not something Cass had expected to hear. Callie could be a little abrasive, but fucking hell she didn’t know the girl had been out to kill her. The trip to Novac was good times. They had fun on the trip to Novac. Killed a bunch of Legion and everything.

Yeah, they were clearly not going to talk about the fact Callie was going to literally kill her.

“So are you and Swank together, now?” She sounded a little sad. This woman and her affection for Boot Riders boys. Cass didn’t get it.

“No, no. We’ve hooked up some, but we’re way past that now.” Cass waved her hands about, dismissing the very idea. Callie looked like she needed to hear something happy. “He’s a good dad though, a great dad. Nessie adores him.”

There was a hint of a smile on Callie’s lips. At least Cass wasn’t totally incompetent at being a friend. Then again, Cal didn’t make things easy.

“Can I see her again?” What a strange request. But Cass wasn’t about to refuse.

“Sure, if you can pull her away from that terminal. If I didn’t know any better…” Cass stopped short of her joke. It was one sure to upset Callie. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I would swear she was your kid, not mine.’ “Just go see her. I’ve got to start on dinner anyway.”

\--

This was a lot. A lot a lot. Callie didn’t know what else she should have expected. She had been gone for five years and the whole world changed around her. Together, Benny and she had changed the world. Wildcards. New Vegas had just been on the precipice of something when she had abandoned it, leaving the city in Swank and Cass’s capable hands. Whenever she heard someone speak well of New Vegas, she knew she had done the right thing, chosen the right people. At the time, she had been too broken to be of use to anyone. Mourning Benny’s death and hopelessly addicted to narcotics, she couldn’t have done this, kept a city afloat.

“Nessie?”

The dark-haired girl whipped her head around to look at Callie. She had those same pale-blue eyes Cass had. 

“Aunt Callie?”

“Come here, I’d like to talk to you.”

Nessie got off her chair in front of the terminal and came over to Callie, just within her reach. It was a strange thing to do, to scrutinize a little girl who was a stranger, but Callie stared at her, looking for anything at all of him. It had been just as long since she had last seen Swank, but she always saw the resemblance between the two half-brothers. She was looking for that spark in this little girl as well. Anything, anything she could hold on to.

“Do you know how we’re related?”

The girl shook her head in response. 

“I was married to your daddy’s brother.” Callie felt her voice crack over that word. Married. Not even for 24 hours. But they weren’t going to Hoover Dam without each other. It was up to her, when she was ready, and she had to put it off until the last possible second. Stupid and young. Benny had pulled aside another Chairman and brought him up to the suite. He said some words and they ate small biscuits and drank red wine and Callie didn’t know what any of it meant, only Benny was happy.

There were others, two boys and a girl. She could have been looking in their faces for some trace of him. Benny’s three children with three mothers, none of them her. The eldest would be almost nine now. But she couldn’t go to them. Looking at them would be even more painful than never having a piece of him to find in the world. She had never seen them. Five years on and it still hurt. 

“Does daddy know you’re here? He misses you too.”

\--

Once, long ago, Cass had asked her if she had ever “taken Swank out for a spin.”

At the time, Callie had been horrified at the very thought of it. She was Benny’s girl and even though she hadn’t been experienced in romantic relationships with men, she knew that she was supposed to be faithful. Besides, even if she didn’t always admit to it, she had loved Benny so profoundly. He told her there was no such thing a soul mates. She thought so too. But she loved him all the same.

“Oh, God, Cal, tell me to stop if you don’t want this.” 

Her back was pressed up against the wall of Swank’s bedroom at the Tops. He was all over her, hands shaking as they moved across her body. He kissed his way down her neck feverishly, nipping at her tanned skin. Hands had started at her waist but they were now ghosting over her breasts, squeezing and pushing. Long, hard strokes of his tongue ran along the junction of her shoulder and neck and she moaned into the contact. Tilting her head, she permitted him more access to her flesh. 

Swank’s leg pressed between her thighs, spreading her and she ground against him, looking for any bit of friction she could get. His still-covered erection pressed against her, growing and twitching and she wanted him now. She wanted him on top of her, pounding her into the mattress and filling her with his cock. She wanted his worn and broken teeth, Tribal teeth, against her skin. She wanted his hands everywhere, touching her, worshiping her. 

“Cal, I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growled into her ear and moved them both to the bed. “I shouldn’t have wanted you. But I did, every part of you.”

Skillfully, Callie worked the buttons of Swank’s collared shirt, revealing his chest bit by bit. He had tattoos too, a combination of well-executed and crude, winding against one another across his chest and down his sides. They were a different texture of life than those she had become well-versed with. 

Here she was, chasing a dead man. She was an awful person, doing to Swank what she had accused Benny of doing to her, replacing. Doing to Swank what she had accused Cass of doing; taking advantage.

Swank caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her flat stomach and her breasts still tucked away. Her figure had never been overtly feminine. She was too muscular, her breasts too small, shoulders too wide. Benny never minded all that. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Swank kissed down the length of her sternum as he worked the clasp to her bra. Once her breasts were free he moved his mouth to her nipple, sucking on her, teasing her. Fuck, it all felt so good against her skin. 

She was hot and ready for him. It wasn’t as if she had been celibate over the last five years, but objectively, none had been quite so attractive as Swank was now. A thin layer of sweat clung to his shoulders and arms. He was still well built, though his stomach was a bit soft, a sign of age, no doubt. He must have been nearly 40 by now. But fuck did he look good like this, his body over hers. Light skin and dark markings. Callie fucking loved the contrast of the two. 

A tiny gold cross, his faithfulness to Maria, hung around his neck. It dipped down away from his body and nearly brushed against her chest. Benny had a chain just like this, but he never wore it, instead carrying his goddess on the handle of his pistol. Before Hoover Dam, the brothers had crossed themselves, prayed to their God who had once been dominant on the continent, but had so easily been abandoned in the time of the apocalypse. 

Swank lifted himself up, bringing his brown eyes to her darker ones. This wasn’t something to rush through, although she was needy and anxious. He looked at her with more care than she had ever managed for anyone, even him. The depth of her emotion had only become apparent when he was gone.

Here she was, ghosting through a life she couldn’t fit together quite right; she was replacing the pieces she wanted with the pieces she had. 

“I shouldn’t want you, not like this.”

Callie silenced him with her lips, forcing him to keep up with her, pushing and teasing. Her hands raked over his chest, dipping into the lines of his chest and seeking out pockets of scar tissue. Nestled between her thighs, she could feel his erection against her core, he was fighting his own impulses, looking to draw out their encounter. The fabric of their pants still acted as a barrier between them. Their progress had been frustratingly slow for her. 

If he wouldn’t work off her pants, she would. Starting with her own buttons, she loosened her slacks and tried to pull them down over her hips, but he trapped her against the mattress, thrusting against her and pinning her down. She had to admit, she liked the aggression, the possessiveness Swank was displaying. 

Again he pulled away from her, separating their mouths so he could speak. All the while his hands remained busy, one supporting his weight and the other one teasing her exposed breasts. “Tell me you want me.” Such a sweet request.

She groaned with frustration, arching her back and pressing her hips against his, pushing for contact. Either he was fully hard now or he was just massive. Either would work in this situation. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Benny

His lip curled just so and it about took her breath away. She had seen something she liked, something familiar. Whereas before he had been slow, deliberate, now he moved furiously, pulling off her shoes and slacks. His hand pressed against her sex, teasing her, and she was so desperate she thrust against it. 

“Good, good girl.” His mouth was just at the shell of his ear. If only he would call her that. But she didn’t dare ask, it would give her motives and her innocence in the matter away. Stopped just shy of it, maddening. 

Girlie

Her underwear came off next, rolling down her legs. Utterly exposed now, she spread her legs for him, trying to appear wonton, inviting. She really was those things, after all. Swank’s fingers slipped inside her and her breath hitched as he started manipulating her, looking for just the right spot that would make her come. Curling and pressing and teasing, she wanted more of him than just this. She would get it, she was sure of that. But as of right now, she was impatient. 

Naked and impatient and wearing another man’s ring on her finger. Always.

“More, more,” she panted between labored breaths. Fingers had always induced a sharp kind of orgasm in her. Pleasurable for sure, but different than what she was after. She could induce this in herself if she had wanted it. Swank misinterpreted her pleading and slipped another finger inside her. The burn of the stretch was good, but not enough. Under his ministrations she thrashed through her orgasm, kicking her legs out and writhing beneath him. He knew well enough to remove his fingers so she could recover. 

Swank stood and removed his belt and pants. Finally getting a good look at him, Callie wasn’t disappointed. 

“Like what you see, Cal?” That little smirk again and she saw what she wanted to. Yeah, she liked it. She nodded, explicitly answering his question. 

His cock was as thick inside her as his three fingers had been, and he was penetrating much deeper. Other things were more important, though. Like that they were about the same height, so they could kiss and suck all they liked at each other’s lips. And his shoulders covered hers, shielding her in although there were no threats in sight. Or the way his hipbones smashed against hers as he fucked her.

The muscles of his back rolled under her fingertips. This was good. This felt good. But she was being awful to him. Callie clamped her teeth into his shoulder and bit down and the pressure and heat in her core became too much. She came again around his cock and drew blood with her teeth. Copper in her mouth, so sweet. 

His gasp was followed by a low growl and he went at her with intense force, lifting her leg and bending her knee towards her chest to achieve a different angle. Her mouth came loose from his flesh and her head fell against the pillow. 

Without anything to muffle her cries, she became loud. None of it was words, not really, but a chorus of pleasured noises that Swank appeared to appreciate. He’d smile and laugh and kiss her until she tried to bite his lip, then pull back. 

“I’m going to cum inside you.” He was asking permission now, as if he had the self control to do anything else. It was sort of a question, sort of a demand. Possession. She knew from the fever in his hands he wanted to possess her. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she managed to chant.

\--

Callie had one last stop before leaving New Vegas again. Maybe this would be her last goodbye as well. A series of departures from and arrivals to a city that would haunt her until the end of her days.

Boone had a rented room in Freeside, although Callie had confirmed with Cass he was more than welcome at the Lucky 38 or the Tops, whichever he preferred. But he, apparently, preferred Freeside. Honestly, she was a little surprised Boone had stuck around at all. He didn’t seem like the type for city life. He should have found himself another pretty girl and tried to start another pretty life with lots of pretty babies. That had always been what he wanted, psychopath that he was. 

If Francine recognized her, she said nothing. Places like the Wrangler made discretion their business, so Callie wasn’t surprised. Still, she must have recognized her, because she handed over Boone’s room number without a fuss. No discretion there.

Callie knocked on the door. She’d pick the lock if she had too. Didn’t have to though.

Boone opened the door and didn’t look the least bit surprised to see her. Didn’t look at all like he was staring at a ghost that had haunted them all years ago. 

“Washington,” he opened the door to his room wide and stepped aside so she could enter. The space was neat and tidy, with no possessions that would suggest someone slept here, much less called this a home. Boone was always that type though.

"Gecko," she corrected.

He offered her a cigarette, which she refused. Never managed to make that into an addiction. Lighting one for himself he sat down on the bed and stared at her. 

“You here to kill me?” He said it in such a casual manner that she considered it. Well, she had considered it before too, finally putting a laser through the person responsible for Benny’s death. Or maybe beating him to death with her bare hands. She could do it, that was for sure. Might have been more satisfying too. Lanius may have been the one to cut Benny up, but only because Boone didn’t take the shot until after he full well knew her husband was dead.

“Maybe.” She picked at the wall where the paint was already chipping away. Neither of them were much for speaking, so she didn’t know what she could have accomplished here. But she had to see him, to know if her rage had really settled or not. It wasn’t, but it was a different kind of rage now that she was older, supposedly wiser. 

Cigarette finished, he put out the stump in an ashtray next to the bed before stalking toward her. He didn’t speak. She didn’t speak. They had nothing to say, nothing to do.

“You smell like Swank.”

“How would you know that?” 

“Sometimes Cass smells like him too.”

Callie couldn’t help but burst into laughter. She laughed right in Boone’s unresponsive face. It was a coping mechanism, always had been. Laughing was safe, made you look crazy rather than sad or scared or lonely. Crazy was okay in her book. 

“You jealous that Nessie isn’t yours?” Callie hoped the words would bite into him, draw blood. There was no response from Boone. That was answer enough. Feeling particularly spiteful, she continued along the same path. “You wanna fuck me now too? Play roulette and see if you land on that kid you always wanted?”

Boone stared straight on ahead, at the wall behind her rather than into her eyes, his expression revealing nothing. He was always so good at that, even without his sunglasses. “I could have made you happy.”

“No, you fucking couldn’t. I was never that woman, Boone. I don’t know what made you think I was.”

But Callie did know. It was always some other woman that she resembled, making people think she was something or someone she really wasn’t.

“I hate you, Boone.”

No response.

\--

Callie didn’t come by the Lucky 38 again, although she had said she would before leaving town. Cass hadn’t really expected her to stay. The only people left were ones she didn’t really care for. Hell, for all the companions she had, it seemed like only those she merely tolerated survived, the ones she loved had died. No getting around that.

Nessie was a deflated heap on the bed. Yes Man had read to her over the intercom while she had the book in her lap, following along, until she drifted to sleep. 

Cass had to admit, her life was good. So it was probably a good thing Cal hadn’t actually killed her on the trip to Novac. That was kind of like the Courier, though, indecisive. Like deciding to take a bullet to the head and then not dying all the way. Or voluntarily becoming a ghost and then swinging by for an afternoon just to fuck up other people’s lives. Yeah, sounded like Cal.


End file.
